CHAPTER II

KUT

If the Turks had hurried up, they would have come upon us without

properly dug trenches and we should have been taken at a great

disadvantage. As it was, however, by the time they did arrive, we were

dug in and had a good front line trench, although most of the support

and communication trenches still had to be dug. After the first two or

three days, all trench work had to be done at night, as conditions by

daylight were not healthy.

Life was not particularly pleasant during any part of the siege, and for

the first few days we who were outside Kut had no dug-outs, all energy

being spent on getting the front line firing trench ready. This would

have been no hardship but for the fact that we had arrived back in Kut

with a biting north wind, causing several degrees of frost at night, and

an ice-covered bucket for one's ablutions in the morning.

Throughout the siege, the Tigris formed our only water supply, this

being carried in at night in kerosine tins by the regimental bheesties.

Drinking water was purified with alum, which got rid of most of the

sediment. Tigris is a poor drink at any time and seems particularly

nasty when spoiling good whisky.

On Monday, December 6th, the cavalry brigade left at daybreak and were

the last people to get away from Kut. Many wounded and sick had been

sent down stream during the day or two previously, the lighter cases

being left in the hospital at Kut to recover and rejoin.

In those early days, no one thought of a siege lasting more than a

month, the general being reputed to be counting on relief by the New

Year.

Meanwhile, the Turks had been very busy: not only had they been digging

at a furious pace opposite to us and sapping up closer and closer, but

they had also sent considerable forces further on down-stream, to near

Shaik Saad, to oppose the Relieving Force which was there concentrating.

The night after the cavalry brigade had gone out, the boat bridge over

which they had passed to the right bank was demolished under the noses

of the enemy.

This gallant feat was performed by Lieut. Matthews, R.E., and Lieut.

Sweet, who volunteered for the job. Both men, we hoped, would receive

the V.C. By the greatest good fortune, the Turks were entirely

surprised, and the bridge was blown up before they realized what was

happening or could offer any resistance. Both officers received the

D.S.O.

The story of the siege has been told in detail by others, and it is not

intended here to attempt it. One saw only one's own small corner, and

never knew what to believe of all the rumours and scandal in which a

besieged town seems to be particularly prolific.

After the first fortnight, a regular routine was started. The 16th

Brigade took alternate turns with the 30th along the main trench line,

while the 17th garrisoned the Fort, and the 18th looked after the town

itself and Woolpress village.

Meanwhile the medical people had been busy moving from their hospital

tents to the covered-in bazaar, which was now converted into wards.

For the first few days, the men were given extra rations to recuperate

them after the wearying retreat and for the strenuous trench-digging in

progress. It was not until January 10th that we were cut down to

two-thirds full rations.

The first Turkish shells arrived on December 5th, but did little harm.

Throughout the siege, we had much cause to be thankful for the very

large proportion of "duds" amongst all classes of Turkish shell.

Fortunately, also, they had no high explosives, or Kut would have been a

heap of ruins in no time.

The mud of Mesopotamia deserves mention in this connection. It is as

disagreeable as but rather more glutinous than most other brands of the

same substance, and when baked dry by the sun is singularly impenetrable

to rifle bullets. All the rules found in military pocket-books were

quite upset by it, some eight inches of the best variety being quite

enough to stop any bullet. For the same reason, trench digging in some

places was very slow and tedious work, as the ground at that time was

dry and hard, seeming more like cast iron than anything else.

During the early part of the siege, regiments in the 16th and 30th

Brigades, on being relieved in the front line, returned to a bivouac in

Kut and did some hours' digging on the way, the operation being carried

out at night. The following night was as a rule allowed us in peace,

but for the next three or six nights, until again relieved, one was

generally out digging or in "support" to some part of the line, so that

"being relieved" did not mean much rest for anybody. The bivouac had a

further disadvantage in that we had as many casualties here as in the

front line. Dropping bullets would come in at odd moments from all

directions, and it was impossible to keep clear of them. Some

unfortunate was laid out nearly every day in this way.

The Turks never once tried to shell our front line, but spent all their

attentions on the town and the Fort. A tremendous "hate" preceded their

attack on the latter on Christmas Eve. They succeeded in blowing a

breach in the mud wall of the Fort in the north-east bastion, and

afterwards assaulted with great dash. Fighting was extremely fierce and

the Turks lost very heavily from our machine-guns. There was much hand

bombing, this being the only occasion during the siege when fighting at

close quarters took place.

After gaining a footing through the breach into our trenches, the Turks

were dislodged, but came on again later, and at midnight, December

24th, were still in possession of the north-east bastion. However, they

thought better of it, and by the morning of December 25th had all

disappeared again. As a result of this fighting, we had about 400

casualties, while the Turks were said to have lost 2,000. Be that as it

may, they never made another attack on our lines.

Khalil Pasha, the Turkish commander, was said afterwards to have told

one of the British generals that he was just preparing another

tremendous attack at the end of January, meaning to smash his way into

Kut at any cost, when the floods intervened, and drove him back over

half a mile, while we had also to return to the "middle" line--our

second line trench some 300 yards behind the first. He stated that he

was prepared to lose 10,000 in the attempt.

Christmas Day passed peacefully, much to our satisfaction, and from now

onwards there was great speculation as to the day of relief. We knew

that General Aylmer's force was to start during the first days of

January, and it was predicted that by January 9th or 10th the siege

would be over.

By the first week in January, all fresh meat was finished, but for a

time we had "bully."

The Relieving Force suffered its first serious check at Shaik Saad and

never arrived, as we had hoped. There was nothing to be done but to

carry on and wait till next time. The weather now was cold and wet and

the trenches often knee deep in mud and water. Kut itself was in a

filthy state, the streets being a sea of mud after every downpour. The

Tigris was steadily rising throughout January and by the 20th was near

the top of the bund running along the bank. Heavy rain on this day and

the next, together with the rise in the river, was responsible for

flooding out the Turks' front line. They managed, however, to turn the

water over towards us, with the result that we, also, were drowned out

of the corresponding part of our line, the effect of this being that

there was now a good distance between the new front lines. For two days

we could walk about in the open, and were much interested in seeing the

old Turkish trenches, and taking all possible firewood in the shape of

old ammunition boxes from their loopholes. We found that one of their

saps was only forty yards from our trench, and many were the bombs they

had thrown which just fell short.

The most interesting relics were numbers of pamphlets tied to sticks

and bits of earth and thrown towards our line. These were effusions

printed in various languages by the Indian National Society, Chicago,[2]

and contained much startling information. The Sepoys were informed that

no British were now left in several N.W. Frontier districts, and were

recommended, as brave soldiers, to murder their British officers and

join the Turks. The Sultan was represented as being ready to give land

to every one who would respond to this invitation. As regards Gallipoli,

it was stated that Sir Ian Hamilton had been wounded and that Lord

Kitchener had run away in the night, taking the British troops with him

and leaving the Indians, who thereupon murdered their officers and

joined the Turks.

[2] See Appendix B.

Very few, if any, of these leaflets reached the Sepoys, and, as far as

we could see, left them unmoved.

After two days' freedom above ground, a reconnaissance was sent out to

locate the Turkish outposts. This had the immediate effect of starting

great activity in the Turkish pickets some 1,200 yards from our line,

and from that day onwards snipers were always busy. Even so, life was

very much pleasanter than when the enemy was within 100 yards.

By January 13th we were down to half rations, and by January 23rd were

still further reduced. On the 26th, the general issued a long

_communique_, telling us of how the Relieving Force had been

unsuccessful so far, having had heavy losses and very bad weather to

contend against. He announced that there were 84 days' more ample

rations without counting the 3,000 animals.

Actually the siege went on for another 94 days, but the rations were

scarcely ample, even including the horse meat. However, at the time, it

seemed that there was nothing to worry about, especially as the general

said he was confident of being relieved during the first half of

February.

With the beginning of February, we started eating horse, mule and camel.

There were very few camels, but they were said to be quite good eating.

For the rest, mule is very much to be preferred to horse. There were

also the heavy battery bullocks, but these were not numerous, and were

very thin already.

All the eggs and milk obtainable from Arabs in the town were supposed to

go to the hospitals, but it was always said they did not receive nearly

as much as they should have done.

During January and February, one could buy several things from Arabs in

the bazaar, i.e., tea, dried beans, atta and "kabobs" or small hot

chapatties, cooked in grease. The tea must all originally have come from

the S. & T. All the Arabs in Kut wore Army socks very early in the

siege. In fact, it would be harder to find a race of more expert thieves

anywhere on the globe.

Towards the middle of February, the Turks began sending over an

aeroplane to bomb us. The pilot was a German, and knew his business too

well. After his first trip, machine guns were rigged up to welcome him

the next time he came and the sappers mounted a 13-pounder to fire as an

anti-aircraft gun.

Considering the difficulties involved and the absence of all special

sighting arrangements this gun made some very fair shooting. But the

only effect of all these efforts was to make Fritz, the pilot, fly

higher and approach the town from a different direction. The first time

he came very little damage was done; then one day a bomb demolished an

Arab house, killing a number of women and children, and a second fell on

the British hospital, where no less than 32 sick and wounded men were

killed outright or horribly injured. The padre--the Rev. H.

Spooner--told me afterwards that no sight he had witnessed at Ctesiphon

could be compared to that hospital ward. Presumably Fritz was aiming at

the ordnance yard next door or some of the guns on the river bank only a

little further on. Had there been more room and good buildings in Kut,

it would no doubt have been possible to put the hospital in a safer

spot, but, as it was, no other building was available. Fritz always

succeeded in eluding our aeroplanes from the Relieving Force. He had so

little distance to go home, whereas they had to come up 20 miles or

more.

Two main observation posts were maintained, one above general

headquarters in the town, and the other in the Fort. There was great

rivalry between the two, and on one occasion, a large flock of sheep was

definitely reported in the town as a considerable force of the enemy

moving to the rear. The Fort maintained they were sheep and neither

would give in.

We could see every day long strings of camels on the horizon, carrying

rations for the Turks from their base at Shamran above Kut down to

their forces at Sanaiyat and Magassis.

The usual book of words about camels informs the reader that they are

liable to slip and split themselves up if allowed to travel over wet or

slippery ground. In Mesopotamia, however, the camel seems not to worry

at all when going over land submerged by floods, and carrying on

generally under all conditions. He is a much wilder specimen than the

usual Indian camel, and our experience before Ctesiphon was that he

would only lie down if one of his forelegs was folded and bound up, and

he was then hit on the head with a thick stick.

A feature of Kut which will not be forgotten was the little chapel which

our padre rigged up in one of the few remaining upper rooms of the

battered Serai. This building was in an exposed position on the river

bank and suffered more than any other from the Turkish shells. The padre

himself was indefatigable, doing everything he possibly could in the

hospitals in addition to his other duties.

Almost every day one or more of our aeroplanes came over Kut, and some

things were dropped, but how we wished they would drop us some letters.

We knew there must be a great accumulation of mails at Amara and it

seemed so easy to arrange it. As it was, some bags of letters were

dropped for the staff and even the S. & T. but, as usual, the regimental

officers came off worst. We wanted news from home more than anything

else, and, as it turned out, most of us never heard a word from our

people till we had reached Anatolia the following July after an interval

of eight months.

Fortunately, we could get messages sent out by the wireless, and once a

month a telegram was despatched to the depots in India, saying that all

were well, or something equally brief but satisfactory to our friends at

home.

Another great blessing afforded by the wireless was the publication of a

short summary of Reuter's telegrams, which gave us something else to

talk of other than the everlasting questions of food and the date of

relief. In particular, the taking of Erzerum by the Russians cheered us

up, and made us hope that the Russian force approaching Bagdad from

Persia would be equally successful.

In fact, at one time the betting was said to be in favour of the Russian

general, Baratoff, relieving us from the north, before our friends

down-stream.

With the arrival of March, every one was full of excitement over the

coming great effort of the relieving force, which was prophesied to take

place on the 4th, but was actually the 8th.

Many schemes were prepared by which we were to co-operate, so that after

the Turks had been started off rearwards by General Aylmer, we might

hasten their departure. In most of these plans one brigade would have to

play the leading role, and probably come in for a pretty hot time unless

the Turks had become quite demoralised; much speculation arose,

therefore, as to which brigade would be given this post of honour.

March 8th came and went and we realized that another gallant attempt had

failed. The bombardment could be clearly heard, and at night it was easy

to see the shells bursting. During the attack on the Dujailah Redoubt

our friends were only seven to eight miles from us, and we could hear

their rifle and machine gun-fire.

This failure was a great disappointment and we realized what it must

have cost in casualties. There was only one thing for us to do, namely,

carry on; so the rations were reduced again and life went on in its, by

this time, mechanical round. All were still confident of being

relieved, and when it became known that General Gorringe had taken over

command down stream we felt sure something decisive would happen and

that he would get through, if anyone could.

After every unsuccessful attempt, a Turkish envoy promptly arrived with

a white flag and requested us politely to surrender. He was as

courteously and consistently refused.

Rations were now down to 10 oz. of bread, this being half atta and half

barley. The dates were finished and the small stocks of mess stores

which had been carefully eked out were nearly finished. Still we had jam

and tea and the mule wasn't at all bad. Some saccharine dropped by

aeroplane gave us something sweet, and was a great blessing.

The efforts to get the Indians to eat meat at the end of February had

failed. They declared that every village pundit would be against them on

their return to India and that, in consequence, no one would give them

their daughters to marry.

Everything possible to help religious scruples was done, and special

permission obtained from the Imam at Delhi and other religious

authorities; but it was no use, and not until the second week in April,

when they were literally starving, did the Indian troops begin eating

horse. No doubt, if they had done so earlier, we could have held out for

some few days longer, but it is doubtful whether this would have

sufficed for our relief.

After March 8th, all horses not wanted for food were shot to save their

keep, and many a good animal was sacrificed in this way.

By the 19th, the bread ration was only 1/2 lb., while the Indians were

getting 10 oz. meal. The small quantity of food began now to tell on the

strength of all ranks, and cases of bad enteritis--so-called--were

common, these resulting in many deaths during the last days of the

siege.

It is really wonderful what an amount of satisfaction can be derived,

under such conditions, from simply imagining a first-class meal, and I

remember one day, in my dug-out, having a great time going through a

long menu and choosing everything I should like best.

When the grass began to grow towards the end of March, we gathered what

the Sepoys called sag or anything we could make a sort of spinach with.

It was like eating wet hay, but, undoubtedly, kept scurvy down, and if

well soaked in vinegar was not so bad.

In Woolpress they managed to get a little fish from the river, fishing

by night.

Our activities after March 8th were directed to keeping out the floods.

Two big bunds were made, one inside the other, round Kut. The Arabs in

the town were forced to work on the inner one and thus saved the troops,

who were weak enough as it was already with making the outer bund.

By the end of March we had a splendid bund across the middle line

capable of keeping out nearly three feet of water; this being 4 ft. 6

in. high and about 20 ft. thick at the base, all the soil having to be

excavated from pits in front. The sappers had told us that our mess

dug-out was just about the lowest spot round Kut and would be the first

place to be flooded; however, when the floods really came, we found we

were two feet higher up than the regiment a little further along the

line. It was hard work making these bunds, and all the men not otherwise

on duty were out every night. The bund also had to form the firing

parapet, and with barbed wire entanglements in the "borrow" pits in

front and again beyond we were well protected from any attack, not to

mention the floods which would have made an advance by the enemy almost

impossible.

All through April the water slowly percolated up and the dug-outs and

trenches had to be continually raised, until by the end of the month we

were nearly up to ground level. The river rose to its highest level

during April, but fortunately news was received, by wireless, from a

British officer with the Russians at Lake Urmia, of the various floods,

so that we were more or less prepared. Actually we had never much more

than 2 ft. 6 in. outside our bund, which held well. Had we been driven

back inside the inner bund, the whole force would have been cooped up in

a very small area and any shelling would have been bound to take a large

toll.

For the last ten days there was no tobacco left. People were smoking

used-up tea-leaves, orange leaves, liquorice, and even grass. Whatever

smoking tea-leaves may be like for the smoker, it is exceedingly

unpleasant for everybody else, especially in a dug-out.

Throughout the April fighting we followed each _communique_ from General

Gorringe with the greatest anxiety, watching his shells bursting over

the Turkish lines by night and always hoping on until after the _Julnar_

had failed to get through.

The men were not told anything about this attempt, but the 30th Brigade

made ready to cover the unloading, in the event of the gallant ship

winning through. She was to be beached by the Fort the same night and

unloaded before the Turks could bring their guns to bear on her next

morning. I remember listening to the firing as she slowly made her way

up-stream; star-shells and flares went up and lit up the scene and she

met with a terrible reception.

Then, after a time, all firing ceased and we realized that this splendid

attempt had failed. According to one member of the crew, all went well

until they reached Magassis, where they struck a cable which gave way,

but a second one immediately afterwards stopped them. Commander Firman,

the naval officer in charge, thought this was a sand-bank and left his

protection on the bridge to shout to them to take a sounding. He was

killed on the spot. Cowley, the well-known skipper of the ship, then

took charge but they could not get past the obstruction, and he himself

was soon very severely wounded by a shell, from which he died when taken

ashore.

Eventually this magnificent attempt had to be given up. It was a most

heroic effort and, had it been possible to steam faster, would probably

have been successful. As it was, the ship was very heavily laden with a

month's supplies for the garrison on board and could only do five or six

knots against the very strong current. Even so, we still fondly hoped

that General Gorringe might achieve the impossible at the last minute;

but it was not to be.

The last few days we lived on the emergency and reserve rations which

each regiment had in its keeping, and the food dropped by aeroplanes

from the Relieving Force. These brought us white flour, some sugar and a

little chocolate. The bread ration, however, was only 4 oz. or just one

good slice a day each.

We were all very weak and there was a great deal of sickness. Enteritis,

which seemed not very different from cholera, was prevalent and affected

nearly everybody to some extent. Not infrequently a Tommy going into Kut

from the front line would suddenly collapse, often not to recover. I

remember feeling rather disappointed that I did not look thinner, and

one felt one ought to be a dreadful scarecrow really to have done the

siege justice.

A Kut Prisoner · 第 2 / 17 章